


Reverberations

by Allthephils



Series: Reverberations [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Casual Sex, First Meetings, M/M, Masturbation, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 07:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15262890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allthephils/pseuds/Allthephils
Summary: Dan went home with someone last night, and now he can't get him out of his head.





	Reverberations

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Dan digs the heels of his hands into his eyes till stars appear behind his eyelids. Someone is snoring softly in the space behind him. The art on the wall in front of him brings to mind a tipsy conversation from the night before. Howl’s moving castle, they’d talked about anime, about wanting to travel to Japan. He’d already been. Dan was so impressed, he hadn’t traveled much on his own. He stands up, twisting until his back pops, pulling his shoulder blades together. There’s a dull but steady throbbing in his head, an ache in his lower back, and a sting in his ass. He squeezes his eyes shut then blinks the floor into focus. He’s going to need pants, preferably his own. Turning to scan the rest of the room, he spots his jeans in a crumpled pile by the door, a nearly identical pair discarded next to them. As he crouches to collect them, he sees his shoes and socks in the hall. The door is wide open so Dan assumes the guy in the bed doesn’t have roommates. He really hopes he’s right about that as he bends over to pick up his shoes, keenly aware of his bare ass on display. Pants, he still needs pants. Crawling back to the bed, he looks under it and finally sees them. Still on his knees, he shuffles back to the other side of the room, desperate to avoid interaction with a stranger he can barely remember climbing into bed with.

Dan sits, his back to the bed, and looks up at the ceiling, waiting for a wave of regret that doesn’t come. Instead, a smile pulls at his lips, and his heart twists just a little bit. He rattles his head and bends his knee to pull on his underwear but his hands still as his eyes settle on a wine red patch of skin on his inner thigh. It’s dark in the center, and there’s another smaller one just above it, centimeters from the base of his cock. His eyes widen. Now, more than ever, he’d really like to avoid an awkward morning after conversation. He just wants some air and some coffee. Quickly, he pulls on his found pile of clothing and stands, slipping his feet into his shoes. Where’s his shirt? _Where’s my fucking shirt?_ He considers just slipping on one of the many t-shirts strewn about the floor but they are all so brightly colored and he just can’t bring himself to do it. Mercifully, he finds a black one, it’s got multi-colored stripes and its a little big but it will have to do. _Sorry, mate, hope this isn’t your favorite._ He pats his pockets to be sure he has his phone and wallet and silently exits the scene of the crime.

He told himself he wasn’t going to do this anymore. The door shuts behind him. He was going to drink less, especially when he’s feeling lonely. The sun is absolutely offensive. He was going to try actually dating instead of hooking up. He’s outside at 9am and it’s horrible. He usually feels so empty after. He turns a corner, searching for coffee. He’s tired, maybe a little hung over, and sore. He wraps his hand around the hot cup. The guilt gives way and he’s just sort of, happy. He sips his coffee, confused as hell.

Dan walks along the pavement, headed toward the tube. He may be starting to enjoy the morning sky and the hustle and bustle of people starting their day, but don’t tell anyone. He lets his mind wander, listening to the birds chirping when a sound rings in his mind. _Dan, fuck._ The voice is low, the accent northern. He can almost feel hot breath against his ear and he realizes he’s stopped. He’s just stood there in front of the post office, staring ahead like an idiot. Starting again, he picks up his pace. He needs to get home. He needs to distract himself, maybe take a cold shower.

Flashes of pale skin flicker somewhere between memory and imagination. Long fingers tangled in his hair, his tongue flicking pink nipples. He can taste the salt, feel the tug at his roots. His breath quickens then catches as he runs straight into an unyielding turnstile. _Shit._ He fumbles for his wallet as he realizes what he’s forgotten. Angry commuters mutter as he pulls out his Oyster card and taps through.

Dan knows better than to run up the escalator when he’s distracted so he’s stands to the right, eyes fixed on the moving handrail. The ghosts of last night rush around him, they follow him to the platform. Kissing wildly against the alley wall, hands everywhere. Wild but not sloppy. Those kisses, he remembers now, those kisses were soft and then they weren’t.

Dan had stared at his crooked lips so long, he’d asked, “you ok there?”

Dan’s answer, “is your flat nearby?” was met with a smile and a hand in his, dragging him out of the bar, giggling.

Soon, the crooked lips were searching and then they found what they were looking for.

The wrong train comes and goes. Those bruises though, not bruises, hickeys. Dan glances down in the general direction of his crotch and he can almost see it. Someone’s black hair, shining, mussed. A hand wrapped around him, a finger teasing his hole. He can feel it, that slick wetness, the tight sting as it sinks inside him. He drops his coffee. _Fuck._

The right train comes and Dan steps on, he never sits but today he thinks it best. He closes his eyes. _Come back._ Black hair and pale skin and fingers and lips and then the stranger looks up. He looks up and his eyes, his blue, green, impossible eyes lock with Dan’s. It’s coming back. Sitting at the bar, lost in those eyes. He laughed harder than he ever had with a stranger. It was easy. It was weird as fuck but it was easy. The taste of scotch mixed with berries and lavender in their mouths. They’d walked to the flat, kissing up against the walls, shameless.

He’s so long, all legs, gorgeous legs. He sees him stand and roll on a condom, feels strong hands behind his knees. Dan remembers opening, so ready. _I want you, Phil, now. “_ Phil.” Dan whispers the name and stands, rushing to the doors as they open. He makes his way across the station and onto a train just about to leave.

 _Phil Phil Phil._ His head doesn’t hurt anymore.

He’s chewing his lip, listening to the music of Phil’s voice in his head, recollections of guttural moans and grunts, of Dan’s name whispered in his ear. A specter of lips brushes his throat and he swallows to prevent his own whimper from escaping. The doors open and he’s back. He’s hurrying through the busy street for the second time and ducks into the post office. On the back of a change of address form, he writes his number and he writes Dan. He stares down at it for a moment then folds it and stuffs it in his pocket.

He passes the bar where they met and the coffee shop and turns down the alley. He’s there. He could ring the bell. He could but he doesn’t. It’s early, they didn’t get much sleep. It was just a hook up. Dan sees Phil again, in his mind’s eye, smiling, tongue poking through his teeth, perfect upswept quiff. He sighs and slips the folded slip of paper under the door.

Dan is covered in glitter, he sips his wine and sets it aside, resting his head against the tile wall. The black bath water soothes his aching muscles. Last night still plays like a zoetrope behind his eyes. He conjures up that voice as best he can, his cock slippery with bubbles in his hand. _Dan, fuck, you feel so good. God you’re beautiful._ Beautiful. Out of all of the words, he chose that one. Beautiful, as he fucked into Dan, slow and controlled. Dan remembers the tease of that slow drag. He didn’t ask for anything. He didn’t need to. He wanted to watch and feel and listen. And now he’s playing it all over. He’s far more frenzied in his stroking then anything in the story he’s dreaming. Phil’s hand had wrapped around him, twisting and tugging with perfect rhythm. He’s calling out, hips bucking, splashing water onto the floor. He cums in thick streaks across his chest but last night Phil had caught every drop and wiped his hand on the sheets. He’d fucked him hard then, finishing while buried deep inside. Dan had held him close to his chest as his soft dick slipped free. Phil’s fervent heartbeat echoes in Dan's ears as his chest heaves in and out of the water.

Dan’s phone lights up, breaking through the dim candlelight. He lets his head lull to the side, still lost in an illusion that pales in comparison to the real thing. He reaches for the phone, angling it to see a new message from an unrecognized number. A warmth spreads through Dan that has nothing to do with the bath and he grins a wide, dimpled grin as he reads,

“Come back.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> Please comment or come say hi on Tumblr @allthephils


End file.
